The Winner's Crime Read Free Page B

choose him for the sale.
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    Yet when the auctioneer turned to face the holding pen,
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    his eyes looked straight into Arin’s. Cheat’s fi ngers twitched
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    twice. The signal.
    Arin had been chosen.
    “That day,” Arin told Tensen as they sat in the winter
    light of his father’s study, “was diff erent. Everything was dif-
    MARIE RUTK
    ferent.”
    “Was it? You were ready to do anything for your people
    then. Aren’t you now?”
    “It’s a ball , Tensen.”
    “It’s an opportunity. At the very least, we could use it to
    fi nd out how much the emperor plans to take of the hearth-
    nut harvest.”
    The harvest would be soon. Their people needed it
    badly for food and trade. Arin pressed his fi ngertips against
    his brow. A headache was building behind his eyes. “What
    is there to know? What ever he will take will be too much.”
    For a moment, Tensen said nothing. Then, grimly:
    “I’ve heard nothing from Thrynne for weeks.”
    “Maybe he hasn’t been able to get out of the palace and
    into the city to reach our contact.”
    “Maybe. But we have precious few sources in the impe-
    rial palace as it is. This is a dicey time. The empire’s elite are
    pouring out gold to prepare themselves for the most lavish
    winter season in Valorian history, what with the engage-
    ment. And the colonists who once lived in Herran grow in-
    creasingly resentful. They didn’t like returning their stolen
    homes to us. They’re a minority, and the military is solidly
    with the emperor, so he can ignore them. But all signs
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    point to the court being a volatile place, and we can never
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    forget that we are at the emperor’s mercy. Who knows what
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    he’ll choose to do next? Or how it will aff ect us? This ”—
    Tensen nodded at the invitation—“would be a good means
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    to look into Thrynne’s silence. Arin, are you listening? We
    ’S
    can’t aff ord to lose such a well- placed spy.”
    Just as Arin had been well- placed. Expertly placed. He
    hadn’t been sure, that day in the market, how Cheat had
    THE WINNER
    known that Arin was the perfect slave to pitch. Cheat had
    a knack for spotting weakness. An eye for desire. Somehow
    he had peered into the heart of the bidder and had known
    how to work her.
    Arin hadn’t seen her at fi rst. The sun had blinded him
    when he stepped into the pit. There was a roar of laughter.
    He couldn’t see the mass of Valorians above. Yet he heard
    them. He didn’t mind the prickling shame spidering up his
    skin. He told himself that he didn’t. He didn’t mind what
    they said or what he heard.
    Then his vision cleared. He blinked the sun away. He
    saw the girl. She raised one hand to bid.
    The sight of her was an assault. He couldn’t quite see
    her face— he did not want to see her face, not when every-
    thing else about her made him want to shut his eyes. She
    looked very Valorian. Golden tones. Burnished, almost, like
    a weapon raised into the light. He had trouble believing
    she was a living thing.
    And she was clean. A purity of skin and form. It made
    him feel fi lthy. It distracted him for a moment from notic-
    ing that the girl was small. Slight.
    Absurd. It was absurd to think that someone like that
    could have any power over him. Yet she would, if she won
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    the auction.
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    He wanted her to. The thought swept Arin with a mer-
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    ciless, ugly joy. He’d never seen her before, but he guessed
    who she was: Lady Kestrel, General Trajan’s daughter.
    The crowd heard her bid. And at once it seemed that
    Arin was worth something after all.
    MARIE RUTK
    Arin forgot that he was sitting at his father’s desk, two
    seasons later. He forgot that